


The Codicil

by Endangered_Slug



Series: Rumbelle Showdown 2014 [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle Showdown 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endangered_Slug/pseuds/Endangered_Slug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Round 5 entry for the Rumbelle Showdown 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Codicil

**Author's Note:**

> My prompts were Her secretary, Missed the bus, Failed proposal.
> 
> It’s blatantly obvious that I know absolutely nothing about domestic and international law especially when it comes to estates, wills, and codicils. For anyone who does know, I’m terribly sorry.

 

 

The Storybrooke Free Public Library was deserted between opening at 8 a.m. and toddler story time at 10 a.m which was why Adam Gold took the opportunity to visit it just before nine on his way to his shop. At first it was out of curiosity to see the the new librarian and take her measure, but soon it became part of his routine. Belle French, beautiful, young, and kind, was always ready with a smile and an extra muffin to share. After a while, the muffin included a cup of tea and good conversation which continued on every day, Monday through Thursday, sixty-two weeks in a row. Before long, he was half in love with her and her warmhearted care. But, on this particular Tuesday, instead of soft smiles, Mr. Gold found her red in the face and shaking with tears, which she hastily brushed away when she saw him walk through the door. Her other hand was clenched around a cell phone, her knuckles white with the strain.

 

“Mr. Gold. I'm sorry— I'm not really fit for company right now.” She tried to smile at him but the best she could manage was a grimace.

 

He settled both hands on his cane, unnaturally still as he looked on with concern. “You've received some distressing news I take it?”

 

“My grandmum passed away,” she said dully. “Isabelle. I was— I was named after her.”

 

Understanding and sympathy spread over his face. “You have my condolences. It's no wonder you're upset,” he said quietly.

 

She gave a harsh bark of laughter and shook her head. “I'm not crying because she died. I'm crying because I'm _angry_.” She threw the phone onto her desk, wincing as it landed with a loud smack.

 

“Because she died?”

 

“Because she's still a controlling, old _bat_!” She took a shaky breath, shocked that she's said that out loud. “I'm sorry,” she apologized, shamefaced. “It's just she brings out the worst in me. Even now, it seems. I'm not heartless I promise you.”

 

“I'd never accuse you of being so,” he said, quietly wanting to comfort her in any way.

 

“She remembered me in her will,” she said, sounding as if her throat was stuffed with cotton, “but I don't think I'll be collecting it. Is that what it's called? Collecting?”

 

Mr. Gold shrugged. “It's as good a word as any.” He paused before continuing. “If you don't mind my asking, why will you not claim your inheritance?” At her look he clarified, “Just a professional curiosity.”

 

“Ah, well, she put in a codicil, you see. A stipulation, I guess. I should research this, I'm not good with legal terms. Anyway, she has— _had_ , I mean, this tendency to butt her nose into other peoples' business. The woman was as rich as Midas but every gift came with strings attached— especially mine. She thought I was irresponsible and needed a strong hand to guide me...”

 

Mr. Gold scoffed. “You're a grown woman, you need as much looking after as I do.”

 

Belle scowled at the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. “She wouldn't agree with you. I have a tendency to get wrapped up in my books; I missed my first day of university because I missed the bus. Then I missed sign ups because of that and I didn't get to take all the classes I wanted and it was so much trouble afterwards trying to get all my requirements done.” Belle sniffed a bit, trying to compose herself. “She never let me live it down. She packed up her house and rented a flat nearby and made me live with her. Said she needed someone to act as her secretary and help her with her charity work, but that was just a bald-faced lie. She just wanted to run my life for me.” She nervously kicked the baseboard, the soft tapping of her shoe sounded like machine gun fire in the quiet library. “Sorry.”

 

“And you did it?” he asked.

 

“Grandmum can be quite persuasive. And she got Dad in her corner. His little girl leaving home to go be... ravished or worse at the big, bad university. Filling my head with outlandish thoughts of independence.” She gave him a bitter laugh. “Crazy, right?”

 

“Absolutely.” He shifted a bit then walked closer in order to see her face better. She looked miserable and his heart ached for her. “What happened?”

 

“I decided I wasn't going to let her control me anymore. I consulted out a map and Maine was as far away as I could get. I just picked up and left. And now she's doing it again! I'm twenty-eight years old and she's trying to dictate my life and she's dead. That's not right. I don't want the money if I have to jump through her hoops to get it and, oh god, I just unloaded everything on you. I'm so sorry.” She buried her face in her hands in humiliation. “I'm sorry,” she said again.

 

“Don't apologize. You've been holding this in for a long time it seems.”

 

She nodded her head and looked up at the ceiling, her hands covering her mouth as if holding back even more words. When she felt she wouldn't spout more word vomit she lowered them. Her arms felt heavy and numb and she would give a great deal for a hug right then.

 

“Is it a considerable amount?” he asked carefully, stepping a bit closer.

 

She shrugged. “It would pay off all my debt and let me have a bit left over. Maybe I could buy a house? Definitely travel a bit, which I've always wanted to do. I've been thinking about Brazil a lot. Especially now,” she said ruefully as she looked at the piling snow outside. “I could leave Storybrooke,” she mused. “Go anywhere. Live anywhere.”

 

His cheek twitched. “So eager to leave us?”

 

Startled, Belle looked up. “I like Storybrooke, it's just, well, other than yourself and maybe Ariel, I don't have many friends. The people here are _nice_ , but I don't really fit in. Does that sound... silly?”

 

He shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. He felt unaccountably tired all of a sudden. “Not at all. You were made for better things. You _should_ travel and see the world. There's plenty of time to settle in some little town in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I can help. What's the stipulation?”

 

Belle gave a brittle laugh. “In order to inherit, I have to be married.”

 

His heart gave a hard squeeze then started pounding at an alarming rate. “I'm sorry?” he asked.

 

“It's medieval!” She cried out, slapping the flat of her hand on the circulation desk. “What should I do?”

 

Mr. Gold stood there, stunned. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck and he swallowed nervously. It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out something stupid like, “Marry me!” but he restrained himself before he could do anything so foolish. Marrying Belle French was not an option for him.

 

They stood there in silence, each contemplating her choices.

 

Mr. Gold was the first to break it. “Have you considered marrying anyone?” he asked quietly.

 

“You mean just for the money? That's a bit tawdry isn't it?” she said, her nose wrinkled with distaste. “And who would I marry?”

 

He chuckled darkly, looking away at the book displays. “There are any number of men in this town who would marry you even for a short amount of time.”

 

“You don't think it would be giving in? If I got married for money? _Paid_ someone to marry me? Oh god, it sounds so horrible!” She put her hands over her face and groaned. “I can't believe we're discussing this.”

 

Mr. Gold hesitated a moment before speaking. “Miss French, allow me to act on your behalf and I'll see exactly what the terms of the will are. You may be able to contest it based upon your grandmother's state of mind when it was written. I'll make a few phone calls and do some research. Things are complicated a bit due to the international legalities but it should be pretty straight forward.”

 

She threw herself into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. “You would do that?” she asked with her face buried in his jacket, breathing him in and holding on for all she was worth.

 

Slowly he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “It would be a pleasure,” he said with a low rumble. “Your grandmother was a sick person. Sick in the head if she tried to control your life in this way. And Brazil is lovely this time of year.”

 

“Have you ever been?” she asked, looking up at him, her eyes bright and eager.

 

He brushed back a strand of hair before tucking it behind her ear, smiling wistfully down at her. “No, never.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
